


Shirtsleeves

by DesireeArmfeldt



Series: Speechless Snippets [5]
Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_snippets, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Prompt Fic, Sexual Tension, Uniforms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:45:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesireeArmfeldt/pseuds/DesireeArmfeldt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray is thwarted by Fraser's dress uniform. </p>
            </blockquote>





	Shirtsleeves

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to [ds-snippets](http://ds-snippets.livejournal.com) for the prompt "buckle."

Fraser’s sitting on Ray’s couch, plate on his knee, eating noodles more neatly than should be possible with friggin’ chopsticks.  Not a drop of dark, soggy meat sauce on the couch or Fraser’s face and especially not on his red tunic, which he’s still wearing even though he’s off-duty, hanging out with his buddy.

The thing about the dress uniform, Ray thinks as he watches Fraser eat, is that it’s an all-or-nothing proposition.  The brown uniform, it would have been natural for Fraser to slip off his jacket when he came into the apartment, hang it over the back of a chair.  But the red tunic doesn’t just slip off.  That thing’s a major production to get out of, especially with the lanyard and all those belts and straps and holsters that have to come off first.  You can’t do it casually.  For Fraser to take all that stuff off in Ray’s apartment, that’d mean some serious intent.

And the thing is, _intent_ ain't on the table yet, between them.  If Fraser had worn the brown uniform, Ray could have told him to take off his jacket and make himself at home, and now he’d be eating noodles in his shirtsleeves, and if Ray put a hand on him, just casually, on his arm or shoulder, then Fraser might look up at him with a silent question in his eyes, and Ray could lean in and kiss him, and it would be fine, just another step in this silent dance they’ve been doing with each other lately.

But Fraser’s all locked up behind his straps and buckles and Ray doesn’t have the words to breach that barrier.  So spears the last potsticker, hoping that Fraser will take it into his head to declare a Casual Friday one of these days.


End file.
